Stewball (Joan Baez) G Em Am Stewball was a race horse, he wore a high head, D G and the mane on his foretop, was as fine as silk thread. G Em Am His bridle was silver, and his reins they was gold, D G And the wealth on his saddle ain't never been told. G Em Am He was ridden in England, was ridden in Spain, D G and he never did lose, boys, he always did gain. G Em Am So come all you gamblers, wherever you are, D G and don`t bet your money on that little grey mare. G Em Am Most likely she`ll stumble, most likely she`ll fall, D G but you never will lose, boys, on my noble Stewball.

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BRIDGE G Em Am The fairgrounds were crowded and Stewball was there D G C D But the betting was heavy on the little grey mare. G Em Am Oh, the hoot owl she hollers and the turtle dove moans D G C D I'm a poor boy in trouble, I'm a long way from home G Em Am ‘cause I bet on the grey mare and some on the bay D G And if I'd bet on old Stewball, I'd be a rich man today

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G Em Am As they were a-riding, `bout halfway round, D G C D that grey mare she stumbled, and fell on the ground. G Em Am And way out yonder, ahead of them all, D G came a-prancing and a-dancing, my noble Stewball.

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G Em Am Stewball was a race horse, and by the day he was mine, D G C he never drank water, he always drank wine

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